The Death of Logic

I like to go to the secret store and get creative juices feeling juices I drink them through the night utterly addicted and soon drunk with endless thought unboxed from society’s ideas of logic and reason I become detached from this world the body stays intact yet I cease to fully exist her insides become a nebulous concoction of every feeling sloshing together she’s trapped her self inside herself flowing in and out of society’s molds staining them but never ever filling them up